


Falling For Your Eyes, But They Don't Know Me Yet

by ShinyGreenApple



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Co-workers, Fluff, Huxloween, Kylux - Freeform, M/M, Office crush, Pumpkin Spice, benarmie, mild mutual pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-06
Updated: 2019-10-06
Packaged: 2020-11-25 14:44:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20913830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShinyGreenApple/pseuds/ShinyGreenApple
Summary: Ben Solo is a repo agent for First Order Repossession, nursing a huge crush on Armitage Hux, one of the office workers. Exploiting Hux's known love of pumpkin spice may be just the opportunity he's been looking for, especially when he notices his favorite coworker is unhappy despite his favorite season being in full swing.





	Falling For Your Eyes, But They Don't Know Me Yet

**Author's Note:**

> Done for Huxloween 2019 - Day 3: Pumpkin Spice.

“Hey, thanks again!” Ben called over his shoulder to the clerk; she had spent the past forty-five minutes with him, perusing shelves and listening to him blather on. He almost felt as if he owed her a bartender’s tip when he realized how much of her time he had taken up with his lovesick shopping frenzy.

“No problem, it’s my job, and I had fun! It was nice meeting you, Ben.” She smiled, nodding at the bags in his hand. “I hope it works out, you have to come back and tell me about it. Bring him with you next time, I’ll help you pick out some wine.”

He stopped in his tracks, hand frozen as he had reached for the door. He stared back at her, throat bobbing as he swallowed nervously. “Don’t jinx me,” he laughed. “What if it doesn’t work?”

“Don’t jinx _yourself_. Just go, and don’t you dare get cold feet. And if for some reason it _doesn’t _work out, well, I’ll help you pick out some wine anyways. But it’ll work, I’m sure of it.”

He gave her a tight-lipped smile, looking as if he was struggling to find words. “Um – yeah. Yeah, thanks . . . what was your name?”

“Rey. Now, _go_!”

* * *

Several hours later, he sat at his desk, staring across the office at the person who, for the past few months, had been invading his thoughts and feelings, more than likely blissfully ignorant of the fact. The object of his affections looked particularly cross and miserable today and it ignited both hope and apprehension within him. Hux ended his phone call with impressive and courteous professionalism before slamming the handset down against the receiver so hard that it bounced back and came to rest on his desk, the dial-tone humming dully just loud enough for his immediate coworkers to hear.

“Fucking idiot,” he muttered, running a hand through his copper hair, a few rogue strands falling over his forehead. “Wanker!”

Phasma raised one brow curiously. “Tell us how you really feel. Hang in there, thirty more minutes and you’re out the door, you can do it. I have faith in you.”

“The silt-for-brains hasn’t handed over a single cent on a brand new Jeep in the six months since he drove it off the lot, yet he’s calling _me _an entitled dumbass!”

“To be fair,” she went on slyly, tucking some sheets of paper into a file, “you _are _an entitled dumbass, but at least you pay your bills on time.”

He planted his elbows on his desk, head in his hands. “Pray tell how I am _either _of those things.”

“That damn fancy chair you’re sitting in, for starters. _‘__Ergonomics, Mr. Snoke. I have a bad back, Mr. Snoke!’ _While the rest of us still sit in these relics from the turn of the century. I bet the ones Mitaka and I sit in are older than your college diploma. I didn’t see you demanding Snoke spend company funds on comfy seats for the rest of our asses. I suppose Ben’s alright because he hardly ever sits in his, always too busy stealing back the cars people don’t pay for.”

“I _do _have a bad back. And it’s not my job to take care of the rest of you.”

“See?” she grinned. “Entitled little prince. As for being a dumbass, well . . .” she glanced at Ben wickedly, met with a sharp glare from the amber eyes.

“_Don’t you dare,” _he mouthed silently.

Hux had been to busy staring blankly at his desk calendar to notice the exchange. “Do go on, I’m still curious as to how I’m as unintelligent as you and our lovely clientele insist.”

“Let’s just say,” she winked at Ben – “that opportunity could quite literally stare you in the face and you’re too stupid to notice.”

“Are you finished making me feel like shite?”

“Yes, for now,” she replied, satisfied. “You wouldn’t know what to do if I did decide to stop being horrible to you one day. I only pick because I do quite like you.” He could only hum weakly in response head still hanging between his hands, the skin on his face tugged into a comical expression.

“Big plans this weekend, Hux?” Ben finally piped up from where he sat; his workspace was much older and smaller than theirs, and his clothes more casual. Hux often claimed to begrudge him for it and yet at the same time always pointed out how slovenly he looked. Today he wore dark jeans, a Creedence Clearwater Revival t-shirt, and a canvas jacket. His combat-booted feet were propped on his desk as he leaned back precariously in his chair.

“Huge plans,” Hux replied, eyes narrowed and a sardonic grin on his face.

“Shutting yourself in with your cat all weekend dressed in nothing but your knickers doesn’t count,” Phasma quipped.

“Don’t judge my life,” he snapped playfully, the hints of a smile playing at his lips. “I’m sure Solo spends his weekend in his underpants, too, although I suspect in his case it’s because there’s a distinct lack of clean clothes.”

“You’re a dick, Hux,” Ben commented, stretching with an unnecessarily loud groan and getting to his feet. “Anyways, I’m out. See you guys Monday.”

“Leaving early again, Ben? I have a suggestion for something you can do with all that extra time,” said Hux.

Ben stopped at Hux’s desk and leaned down, resting his hands on the corners and staring him in the eye. “Oh?”

“Yes.” He stared back at Ben unflinchingly, smiling softly and hesitating before going on. “Your laundry.”

“Cute,” he replied, face twisted in bitter sarcasm, straightening to his full height again. “Bye, guys. Mitaka, don’t let either of them stay too late.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” the quiet man replied, giving him a thumbs up. “Goodnight, Ben.”

* * *

Hux sighed deeply as he stepped off the bus and trekked down the street that led to his apartment. Miserable fucking clients. Miserable fucking job. Miserable fucking _Snoke_. The only redeeming quality was that he did sort of like most of his coworkers, although he found Ben more irritating all the time for some reason, with his roguish attitude, his dirty boots, that stupid smirk and those tight, _tight_ t-shirts. Wait, what? Maybe he really was as exhausted as he originally thought. A twinge of guilt nagged at him as he thought of the job interview he had scheduled on Monday afternoon; he would just take a long lunch break, no one would mind. It was one of the perks that came with being a model employee with a nearly perfect attendance record. Yet he somehow felt like he was betraying his little rag-tag group of comrades. They had, after all, spent nearly the past five years together. He would miss them, _if _he even got the job. He shook his head, he would cross that bridge if and when he came to it. For now, as Phasma had so shrewdly accused him, he really was eager to shut himself in for at least a day, probably both. He had been saving a few good bottles of wine for a weekend just like this one, and the stew he had put in the slow cooker before work should be just about done by the time he got home. Yes, homemade stew and red wine and a new season of _American Horror Story _had recently dropped on Netflix; it was going to be a good weekend, just him and Millie – oh _fucking hell_. He had at last reached his building, where Ben Solo sat on the stairs with a cheeky, sheepish grin on his face.

“Hi.”

“What on earth are you doing here?”

Ben reached down to retrieve the Starbucks cup on the stair beside him and handed it to Hux. “One trenta PSL for a Mr. Hux. Extra whipped cream.”

Hux took it from him with furrowed brows, telling the smile eager to burst onto his face to remember its damn place, staying in its room and pretending it didn’t exist.

“I don’t understand, I spend almost 40 hours a week insulting you and you bring me coffee? I never took you for a masochist, Ben.”

“Takes one to know one,” he replied. “We both work for Orion Snoke, after all.”

“You have a point,” Hux nodded, allowing one corner of his mouth the tiniest bit of room to inch upwards. “But I still don’t understand why you’d come all this way just to bring me a latte.”

“Oh, I didn’t. I brought this stuff, too.” He turned around and retrieved a basket that had been hidden from sight behind him. It was simple but very tastefully arranged, the contents mostly brown and orange in color with hints of icing on some of them here and there, the whole thing wrapped in shimmering cellophane that was tied together with a burlap bow.

Hux pursed his lips, brows now pulled tightly towards one another, and swallowed loudly. “But what . . . why – ” he blinked pointedly. “Nevermind, come in, it’s freezing out.”

“Oh!” Ben shook his head as he got to his feet. “I didn’t mean to impose, you don’t – you don’t have to invite me in. I just wanted to give – ”

Hux waved him off. “Nonsense, you’re not imposing on anything. I’m just a shut-in, after all,” he added slyly as the doors opened for him.

“Love what you’ve done with the place. Cozy,” Ben commented, glancing around the modest dwelling. He, Phasma, and Mitaka had spent an entire weekend helping him move in the previous year; it had been fairly sterile and unwelcoming then, but Hux had done quite the job of making it more inviting.

“Thanks,” Hux huffed out a laugh. “Smells better than it used to, too.”

“Ah, yeah, the great mildew war of 2018, I remember.”

“Not to brag, but I’m considered somewhat of a hero in the building now, apparently it had been an issue in several units for years, this one included. Neighbors love me.”

“Who wouldn’t?” Ben muttered under his breath as he crouched down to let Millicent sniff his hand. She quickly butted her head against him, demanding his touch.

“What’s that?” Hux asked. He had gone into the kitchen to check on his stew and hadn’t heard what Ben said, and also missed the way his face went pink.

“Nothing,” Ben shook his head as Hux reentered the room, a bemused smile on his face at the sight of Millie loving on his giant coworker. She usually disappeared at the sight of strangers and refused to come out until they were gone.

“So anyways, what’s all this you’ve brought me?” He looked at the basket properly now, retrieving the latte, letting his eyes flutter closed in spite of himself as he took a sip. “And why?”

Ben shrugged, staring at his own feet. “This is your season, isn’t it? Ever year you go gaga over all of the pumpkin crap; you’ve usually got one of those at your desk at least three times a week. Haven’t caught sight or a sniff of one yet. You’ve been miserable.”

Hux thought for a moment, continuing to sip at his drink. “I’m always miserable,” he shrugged, laughing. “How can you tell?”

Ben glanced up to meet his eyes, almost shyly. “Intuition, I guess? I dunno. I’ve always been able to tell with people, somehow. My uncle says I’m an empath, whatever that is. Says it’s a gift. But he’s weird.”

Hux’s heart beat just a little bit faster, for what reason he couldn’t possibly imagine. It certainly had nothing to do with the fact that Ben was spot on, and that the guilt over his upcoming job interview now roared back to the surface like water threatening to boil over a neglected pot.

“Well, I suppose you’re not wrong. But thank you, Solo.”

“Solo is my father’s name,” he said smugly. “Call me Ben.” Hux rolled his eyes.

“Did you want some of this?” he held the cup out towards him.

“Oh – I . . .” Ben stammered. “I dunno.”

“Have you ever _tried _it? You haven’t, have you?” he asked, incredulous. “You have to, here.” He all but thrust the cup at Ben, who reluctantly took it, willing his hands not to shake at the unexpected offer and the way Hux’s fingers brushed against his during the exchange. “Don’t bother taking the lid off, just try it,” he rolled his eyes again.

“Sure you’re not afraid of catching cooties?” Ben teased before taking a drink.

Hux watched him in amusement. “Well?” he asked as the cup was passed back to him. Ben stared at him awkwardly, holding the liquid in his mouth and nodding for a few seconds before finally swallowing. “Mmhmm. It’s . . . uh . . .”

“You don’t like it,” Hux teased.

“No, it’s not that. I mean the whipped cream is good, but the rest . . . well, it smells a little better than it tastes.”

“More for me, then,” Hux declared, taking a large gulp.

Ben took a few steps forward, bringing him almost uncomfortably close. “That’s kind of the idea,” he replied softly.

Hux held his gaze for a few beats, eyes briefly narrowing at the scent that filled his nostrils. It had to be the coffee, it just had to. There was no way . . . and yet, a PSL had never smelled _quite _this strong before. Must be a new formula, yes, that was it. He finally looked away, staring towards the kitchen and then back at Ben.

“Stay for dinner?”

* * *

Pumpkin spice cupcakes, pumpkin spice candles, pumpkin spice teabags, pumpkin spice potpourri, pumpkin spice hand soap, it just kept piling up and Hux was only two-thirds of the way through the contents of the basket; Millie was currently occupied with some shreds of crinkly paper that had fallen from it.

“Ben, this is going to last me into next year!” Hux laughed as he rummaged through what had to be the bottom layer of pumpkin spice nonsense. Ben exited the kitchen, wiping his hands on a dish towel, having insisted on taking care of the dishes after dinner. He tossed it onto the counter and sank down beside Hux, casually draping his arm over the back of the couch, his patience wearing thin as he itched to place it around the slight shoulders instead.

“You like it, then?”

“Obviously,” Hux droned. “I just don’t understand why you went to the trouble.”

“Just wanted to do something nice for a stressed out coworker.”

“Coworker,” Hux scoffed. “Did Phasma and Mitaka get baskets, too, then?” he asked, glancing sidelong at Ben, pleased at how he bit his lip and seemed to choke at his loss for words.

“_Friend_, then, is that better?”

“We’re all friends. Same question.”

A long-suffering sigh passed through Ben’s lips; he might have expected Hux to be difficult – it was delightful, actually. It was now or never. “Fine,” he growled. “If you’re going to make me come out and say it.” He leaned close, the tip of his nose almost touching Hux’s. “Can you keep a secret?” he whispered, eyes widening when Hux took him by the hand.

“I’ll even shake on it,” he answered with smug confidence.

“Well, the thing is,” Ben leaned in, lips almost against Hux’s ear – “I like you better than them.”

“That’s shameful,” Hux whispered, eyes going to Ben’s lips and tightening the grip on his hand. “What other dishonorable things are you hiding, I wonder?” He leaned forward and Ben closed his eyes, waiting for what he was certain was now inevitable, pleased beyond belief that his ridiculous plan might have actually worked. He smiled, taking in shallow breaths as he waited for Hux to close in on him, any moment now, and –

“Like these.”

His eyes flew open, surprise and disappointment evident on his face as he stared at Hux, who sat before him, stone-faced, his palm open as he held several small items held in it for examination. Ben stared at them in forced bemusement: an open pack of gum, lip balm, and a tiny tube of lotion, all pumpkin spice scented. The gum had been particularly vile and he had been quite happy to finally dispose of his most recent piece in the kitchen trash only moments earlier. Before he could begin to cobble together a reasonable explanation, Hux leaned in, absurdly, and _sniffed _him. Deeply. Brought Ben’s big hand to his face, inhaling, leaning in close again, and taking another deep breath through his nose, causing Ben to go lightheaded and make his eyelids flutter. He pulled back, holding the items up pointedly.

“Yes, I took these out of your coat pocket, sue me later. Tell me, Ben, have you been trying all evening to _seduce _me with bloody pumpkin spice?” He sniffed at Ben’s neck for good measure, staring at him intensely, lips parted.

Ben recovered from this unexpected bump in the road quickly, flashing a lopsided smile that showed off his imperfect teeth and made the corners of his eyes crinkle just a bit. “Depends,” he reached up, stroking Hux’s hair and letting his hand slide down to cup his cheek. “Suppose that is what I’m doing, is it going to work?”

“Only if I already liked you to begin with,” He replied breathlessly, hastily tossing Ben’s purloined goods onto the floor, his now-free hand going to the back of Ben’s neck and pulling him in for the kiss he had so cruelly delayed. He felt Ben smile against his lips before the other man reluctantly pulled away, eyes heavily lidded and a stupid, blissfully self-satisfied look clouding his features.

“You’re such a dick,” he breathed. “Do you know how long I’ve wanted to do this?” he asked, pulling him close once more, eager to explore more of that exquisite mouth; for all of the sharp words that so often came from it, the kisses it gave were softer than even he had dreamed.

* * *

_ **Two weeks later.** _

Ben lay on the same couch where they had shared their first kiss, Hux snuggled tightly in his arms. Both of them watched the candle on the coffee table as it flickered, casting lazy shadows on the walls and filling the apartment with the all-too familiar smell that Ben now associated with happiness.

“I kind of wish you had pulled your ridiculous stunt years ago,” Hux mumbled, his voice foggy with the kind of laziness that one only got from chilly fall afternoons.

“But you hated me then,” Ben replied, kissing the top of his head.

“Only a little.” Ben couldn’t see his face, but heard the smile in his voice just the same. “To think I could have actually enjoyed coming to work all that time.”

“Well, you do now, right?”

“Yeah . . .”

Ben sat up. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Hux replied guiltily, rearranging himself so that he sat on Ben’s lap facing him, a leg on either side of his waist.

“I can tell something’s up, you’d might as well tell me.”

“Don’t be mad?”

Ben kissed him firmly on the mouth. “Never.”

“Ben I’m . . . I got another job. I’m leaving First Order Repo.”

“Oh.” Try as he might have to hide it, the disappointment and concern was evident on his face. “Does this mean you’re moving?”

“No,” Hux shook his head. “It’s only ten minutes further than I already travel. And I’ll be able to afford a car with what they’re going to be paying me.

“Armie, that’s great!” He held Hux’s face in his hands, eyes exuding adoration. “Why would I be mad?”

Hux went a little pink at the cheeks. “I dunno, I just thought you might be. You waited so long for us to be . . . us. And now we won’t work together anymore.”

“Are you kidding?” Ben wrapped his arms around him and hugged him tightly. “I’ll still make sure I see you every day. I mean, if you want me to. Come on,” he gave him a quick peck to the lips. “You’re meeting my parents tonight, remember? Now it doubles as a celebration for you getting away from Godforsaken First Order. Then I’ll bring you back here and celebrate that cute little ass,” he winked. 

"Isn't it still a little early to be meeting your parents?"

"For the last time, stop it. We've known each other for five years. It's no big deal, I promise, they won't bite."

“So what’s this new job of yours, anyways?” Ben asked happily as he navigated his truck through traffic on their way to the restaurant.

Hux took him by the hand, lacing their fingers together and smiling contentedly. “Database administrator. Organa Textiles.”

Ben’s eyes went wide. “You’re kidding me,” he grinned, almost laughing.

“I know, right?” Hux answered excitedly. “Excellent company, great benefits, retirement package. I’m set for life, Ben.”

“Yeah. Yeah, you really are. Did you get to meet the CEO?”

“She actually _interviewed _me, personally.”

Ben nodded, smiling. “Think you’ll like working for her better than Snoke?”

“No. I know I will. She’s delightful.”

Ben looked up at him pointedly, “Yes, she is.”

“How would you know?”

Ben raised his eyebrows as he whipped into a parking space at the local Italian eatery. “You’re about to find out, Pumpkin.”


End file.
